All the Stories are True
by Ricoashay
Summary: Alagaesia in the time before Eragon. A grandfather and his grandchildren-Hollow, Rage, Fluke, Pocket, and Evanz-gather around to hear a tale about dragon riders before their fall. During his recital of the tale, he cannot help but remember what a friend once said "All the stories are true." I hope to update at least once a week.
1. Chapter 1: Bunnies, Babies, and Dragons

_Author's Note: This is my first attempt at a fan fiction although I am no stranger to writing. I wanted to do something that no one else has done yet, and I thought it would be unique to but the crew (Rage, Hollow, Evanz, Fluke, and co.) in the world of the Inheritance Cycle. I do hope that I can do justice to both Christopher Paolini and the crew. Please comment any suggestions and point out any blatant errors, I do my own proof reading and miss things at times. Other than that, please enjoy. _

**Chapter 1: Bunnies, Babies, and Dragons**

A man sits before a roaring fire that fights off the cold of Alagaësia's winter, contentedly smoking a pipe while staring at the circle of young faces before him. They are his five grandchildren, ages six to thirteen with one set of blonde haired, blue eyed twins. The other three aredark haired, taking more after their father than their mother. It was remarkable really, just how much each of them were like their namesake.

"Tell us a story grandfather," pipes up one of the children, a smile bright on his young face. An explosion of blonde hair sticks out at all angles from his head, his blue eyes are shining with anticipation.

The man blows out a puff of smoke, flooding the room with the sweet smell of tobacco, and smiles at him. Of his five grandchildren Fluke has always seemed to like his stories the best, even wanting to act out parts with the other children.

"What would you like to hear, Fluke?" the man asks, brushing a hand through his own gray tangle of hair and leaning back into the cushions of his wooden armchair.

"But it's my turn to pick this time grandfather." A dark haired grandchild whines before turning his head towards the smallest of the group, "You tell him Evanz."

The man sighs and sits back in his chair to wait out the coming argument. Once they got going, there really was no stopping them and normally it was better just to let them work it out, even though Rage would undoubtedly end up sulking in the corner again.

Evanz turns to look at his brother, Rage, a mop of brown hair falling in front of his eyes as he does so. "Actually, I believe it is Pocket's turn to choose." His speech and mannerisms are surprising in a boy his age, closer to those of his oldest brother than that of an average six year old.

Silence falls for a moment, save for the sound of quiet singing. Pocket, completely oblivious to the conversation, croons softly to the white ball of fluff in her lap. Any of the other children will jump up at the mention of their name, but not Pocket, who so often gets lost in her own little world.

Rage pouts and crosses his arms, turning towards his oldest brother, "Pocket isn't even listening. Hollow, you remember, right? It's my turn."

Hollow leans against the wall next to the fireplace, staring into the flames as they devour the wood. He takes his sweet time answering, thoughtfully sipping from a cup of tea. Rage squirms as Hollow savors his tea. One can tell by the glint in Hollow's eye that he is secretly enjoying making Rage wait. Finally, he says, "Ah, good tea." Rage fidgets so much with anticipation at the answer that he could well be having a seizure. "Rage, stop being a baby and let Pocket choose."

"And here it comes." Evanz mutters as he stares at the faces of his oldest two brothers.

"You stop being a baby! It's my turn, my turn, mine!" Rage leaps to his feet and attempts to shout into Hollow's face. A feat made quite difficult by the fact that Rage barely comes up to Hollow's shoulders.

Hollow's face remains cool and unchanged as he casually takes another sip of his tea. Fluke stares at the two of them delightedly, amused by the spectacle going on in front of him. Evanz wears a look of disgust on his face at Rage's behavior and mutters under his breath about his immaturity.

"Stop fighting! I want to hear a story!" a loud commanding voice pierces the air, silencing the room.

Everyone's attention snaps back over to Pocket. She has ceased singing, and is staring murderously at her brothers. Her hands clutch at the white thing on her lap, a small bunny with a twitchy pink nose. Immediately, everyone sits and faces their grandfather once more. He smiles at his granddaughter, glad for the peace that she has brought upon the room.

"We have decided that it is your turn to choose Pocket." The grandfather says, staring at her small round face with the little blonde braided pigtails.

Rage jumps in, "Actually it was my turn, but I decided that you could choose, Pocket."

The others glare at him, but say nothing. Pocket doesn't seem to notice as her twin, Fluke, has scooted back over next to her and is now petting the bunny too.

"Pocket." The grandfather says, and she glances up at him, "What would you like to hear?"

"Dragons." She says without hesitation. The room is quiet again, the children look at their grandfather, their faces bright and hopeful. Nobody moves except for Rage, who squawks and jumps away from the fire when a log falls and sparks fly up.

Hollow finally breaks the silence. "But… it's forbidden," he says a little uncertainly.

"Nonsense Hollow," their grandfather says, "The only stories that cannot be told are the ones that no longer have people around to tell them. I think you'll find that my tale is quite full of myths and legends. The very sort of tale that all of you will love."

Everyone in the room smiles, even the mostly emotionless Hollow, and Fluke practically starts jumping up and down with excitement. Rage nearly jumps on top of Evanz when a moth flys by his face while Hollow looks on and laughs. Pocket has gone back to petting her bunny, but she stares attentively at her grandfather.

He smiles a little sadly at them, thinking of the people that his grandchildren embodied so well; so many of whom only had their names as a reminder that they once existed at all. Far too few of them could still sit in this house and listen to the tale that was theirs. "_If only I could tell them that what they are hearing is true, that they were named after real people, good people. They could know the truth, the whole truth, of those last years before the end. Know that once the world wasn't always so dark and the king so cruel. Instead, they will all think it is a story, a grand thing their grandfather made up." _he muses as he sends Hollow fetch him some spiced wine. "_But I suppose it will have to be enough_." And they all settle in for another one of their grandfather's amazing stories.


	2. Chapter 2: The Baker and the Blacksmith

**Chapter 2: The Baker and the Blacksmith**

_Author's Note: Please remember that this is a fan fic and not all facts will be exact. This is my retelling of the story with some character substitutions and additions and I will be changing some things about certain characters (mostly ages and minor personality tweaks). I will try to keep it as true to form as possible, but as I try to make the story my own there will be some minor deviations from the book as well some free interpretation of certain events. If I have, however, completely butchered a certain important aspect of the world of the Inheritance Cycle, please inform me. Again, comment any suggestions and let me know what you think of it. Enjoy!_

**Kuasta, 7877 AC**

Fold, push, fold, push. A young boy kneads dough on the floured surface of a wooden table in the back of his father's bakery. His arms are coated to the elbow with flour with a light dusting in his blonde hair that reminds one of the first snow on a yellowed grass field. He looks around the shop as he works, his mind wandering to well beyond the pile of squishy dough in front of him.

"Fluke."

The boy jumps, so lost he had been in his thoughts that he had not heard his father approach from behind. He turns to face him, blue eyes wide, hoping that he will not get in trouble for daydreaming again. His father hated that, he wanted Fluke to work, work, work, no slacking until the job was done.

"Yes, father?" he says, his gaze lowered slightly.

"Look at me boy." Fluke's eyes dart up to stare at his father. He is slight of frame, but tall, with strong shoulders and arms from countless hours of kneading dough and hefting the heavy bags of flour from the miller's. His hair is much like Fluke's, but dark in color-a mess sticking up on all sides and coated in a light dusting of flour. He could be stern and demanded hard work, but unlike many fathers his punishments stopped at harsh words and never went beyond. "Your mother wants to see you. Now run along and I will finish this up or we will never get the morning bread done."

With a quick nod of his head, Fluke bolts for the back of the shop, tearing off his apron and hanging it on its hook. Before proceeding through the door that separates the shop front from his house, Fluke takes his hand and knocks on the doorframe three times. Smiling to himself, he opens the door and just has enough time to step in and close it behind him before he is ambushed by a feather duster.

"Mum…" Fluke coughs as the flour gets batted off him and on to the spotlessly clean floor, "Mother, quit." He tries to squirm out of her reach, but she grabs his arm with a grip like iron, her fingers running through his hair to brush out the flour dust.

"Why…" she says breathlessly, "Why. Do. You. Always. Have. To. Get. Flour. Everywhere!" she annunciates every word like it is its own sentence, smacking Fluke with the duster when he tries to wiggle away again.

"Mum…" Fluke mumbles, but he gives up trying to get away and lets her finish with the duster and then take a wet bit of her apron to his face.

"There," she says, stepping back to admire her work. She tucks a curling bit of hair behind her ear as it has managed to escape from her otherwise neat bun. She wears a crisp, white apron over a simple wool dress and wouldn't be distinguishable at all from the other women of Kuasta if it weren't for the fact that she shared Fluke's light blonde hair—a true rarity in this town.

"Father said you wanted to see me?" Fluke asks.

"Yes, yes of course he did. I was just outside and I ran into Sasha from next door," She smiles at Fluke before continuing, "It's the envoys for the Dragon Riders, they have brought two eggs and they are here, asking for all the children to come and see," her eyes light up as she says this.

Fluke is rooted to the spot, his eyes wide. Dragon eggs, real dragon eggs. To touch one and become a Rider, a legend, what ten year old can say no? Certainly not Fluke, dreamer that he is with a thousand scenarios currently running through his mind about what could possibly happen. He is brought back to reality when his mother whacks him with the feather duster once more, playfully this time.

"Go Fluke, fetch Hollow and go see. Your father and I can handle the shop today."

Fluke sprints for the front door and knocks on the doorframe three times before bursting outside into the crisp morning air. The sun is just starting to show through the gaps between the houses surrounding his own, casting a pale orange glow upon the dirt of the streets. It is early still, but the town is bustling, children bursting through the doors of their houses and sprinting off towards the town center. Fluke follows them for a moment before turning left and running up to a wooden door. He pounds on it in his excitement, jumping up and down on the balls of his feet as he waits.

A woman opens the door, wiping her hands on her apron as she stares down at Fluke. "Fluke, honey, Hollow is around the side working the forge with his father today, if you want to play you will have to come back later."

She goes to close the door. Fluke, panicking, runs up to it and puts his foot in the doorframe, preventing it from closing. She looks at him bewildered, but before she can protest Fluke blurts out, "Wait! I'm not here for that. It's the Riders." Fluke's eyes light up when he says this and Hollow's mother's mouth opens in disbelief, "They have two eggs here, real dragon eggs! They want us to come see!"

Her eyes narrow and Fluke's face falls, she doesn't believe him. "Really Fluke? Of all the tales to get Hollow out to play, take your nonsense somewhere else child."

She goes to shut the door once more and Fluke screams, "I'm not lying, honest. I was working this morning too. My father let me go to see them."

Something about the way he said it must have portrayed his sincerity because Hollow's mother freezes. She looks him up and down and notices the flour, still stubbornly stuck to the front of his trousers. Sighing, she says, "Well if you are telling the truth…" She looks at him hard, biting her lip, "And I think you are. It would be a shame to let Hollow miss out. Wait here honey, I will go fetch him."

Fluke sat down on the front step to wait, absentmindedly toying with a bit of thread sticking out of his trousers. Impatient, he gets up after a moment and begins to pace back in forth in front of the door.

"Come on Hollow." He mutters under his breath, staring at the front door intensely as if he could open it with sheer force of Will. (A/N: Did you see what I did there? Unintentional pun alert)

The door suddenly bangs open, and Hollow knocks rapidly on the doorframe three times before sprinting out, colliding with Fluke in his haste. They bounce off each other, staggering backwards, but otherwise manage to keep their footing. Hollow rubs his head where he smacked into Fluke, pushing his brown hair back off his forehead where it had been stuck with sweat from working in close proximity to the hot forge.

Fluke smiles and starts to laugh. "Easy there buddy," he says, "I don't think that getting to see dragon eggs means you can ram into me."

Hollow grins, a rare thing coming from him. Fluke can tell that Hollow is just as excited as he is, even if he doesn't show it as much. "Well come on then Fluke, where are these dragon eggs?"

Fluke points in the direction of the town center, "Mum said they are there."

"Let's have a race." Hollow says, yanking on Fluke's arm and would have pulled him over if Fluke had not already been following. Years of working the blacksmith have given Hollow an edge over the other boys in terms of strength and it still surprised Fluke at times. Even though Hollow is just a few weeks older than Fluke, he looks like a couple years older. He has a slightly more muscular build and is quite tall, towering over almost everyone their age except for Fluke, who is of a more willowy build but only about half a head shorter.

Sprinting through the lanes between homes, Fluke and Hollow race down towards the town center. Fluke just barely manages to edge out Hollow and he bends over, panting outside the circle of people that have gathered. "Good race." He says, grinning at Hollow, but Hollow is silent, attempting to stare over the heads of the crowd.

Without saying a word, Hollow begins to makes his way towards the center. Fluke follows him, staying close as Hollow parts the crowd like water. When they get there Hollow gasps, and Fluke shoves by. "What, what do they look like?" Fluke says, hardly containing the excitement in his voice.

He stands there for a moment in disbelief. They were real, real dragon eggs, a spectacle so rarely seen in this town because they were so often overlooked. Not now though, two dragon eggs were here for all the children to touch. Touch and pray that they would be chosen, that they could become one of the Riders.

They sit upon cushions, the early morning sun reflecting off of their glossy surfaces. One is blue, run through with darker blue and silvery veins in a pattern so complex that it makes Fluke's head spin. The other is a golden yellow, the color of sunsets in fall when the leaves start to turn. Unlike its counterpart, it is solid colored, and glows as if it is a miniature sun, right there in the town center. All the children around them are making their way up and touching each egg, first one, and then the other. Fluke glances over at Hollow and he nods his head. Fluke puts his hand to the blue egg first, it is cool and smooth beneath his flour dusted palms. He switches then with Hollow. As he makes contact with the yellow egg, he jumps back as if shocked. His eyes widen and his head snaps over to Hollow, just in time to see him have the same reaction with the blue egg. Fluke tentatively touches his palm to it once more and is able to rest his hand against it. Unlike the other egg, this one feels warm, as if it were absorbing the heat from the sun. Shaking his head, Fluke melts back into the crowd, Hollow right behind him.


	3. Chapter 3: The Envoy

**Chapter 3: The Envoy**

_Author's Note: This took a bit longer than I wanted it to in part due to: writer's block, being swamped by my lovely pre-pharmacy course work, and a virus that has disabled my ultrabook until my dad can try to remove it which forces me to write on my desktop computer (The horror! But seriously, I way prefer writing on my laptop). Then I finally finish it, and the site decides to go down all day so I can't post it and I was gone all day the day after... Anyway, despite all that, here it is, and I hope you enjoy it!_

**Kuasta, 7877 AC, Moments Later**

Fluke pushes his way through the crowd of children as the morning sun continues to creep over the tops of the buildings in town square. Thousands of thoughts run through his mind. What had he felt when he touched the golden yellow egg? Did it mean something? Had Hollow really felt the same thing when Fluke had glanced over? Or had Fluke just imagined it all, so hoping to be chosen that his own brain had invented the whole thing?

The boys just manage to exit the crowd when Fluke is jerked to a halt by an iron grip upon his shoulder. "What, Hollow?" Fluke reels to face him, only to find that it was in fact, not Hollow that had grabbed him.

It was a black cloaked figure, likely male based on his stature, with a face undistinguishable beneath his drawn hood. He releases Fluke immediately and bends over slightly to whisper in his ear, "Follow me, and bring your friend." His voice is soft, his tone silky. It reminds Fluke strangely of the velvet of his mother's most expensive dress. The man then proceeds to walk away from town square and into a small side street, gesturing at him to follow.

Hollow emerges from the crowd and stares at Fluke's face, still fixed on the figure fading into the shadows of the alley. "What does he want?"

Without looking at Hollow, Fluke answers, "For us to follow." Fluke then starts to do just that, walking quickly across the town center, glancing around to see if anyone else had noticed the strange exchange. The crowd, however, is so enamored with the dragon eggs that it would take nothing less than an actual live dragon to get them to break away.

Hollow jogs to catch up and grabs at Fluke's shoulder, "Are you sure this is a great idea?"

Fluke bats him away impatiently and continues on, "You don't have to come."

Hollow makes an odd noise in the back of his throat as he chokes on an attempt at a laugh, "You aren't going anywhere without me, but your curiosity is going to get the better of you someday Fluke."

Fluke ignores this and continues into the shadowy street, eyes darting around until they find the cloaked man leaning against the side of a building, his arms folded in front of his chest. He straightens abruptly when he spots them and pulls his hood down, allowing the boys to see the faint smile on his face.

"Good, you followed me. It's always nice when we get some curious ones," he says in that same smooth voice.

Hollow raises his eyebrows and glances at Fluke before speaking, "I'm not sure what you're talking about Sir."

The man grins now, his gaze flicking back and forth between the two boys, "Really? So I just imagined what I saw, did I?"

Fluke's jaw drops, his eyes wide in surprise, he stumbles over his words in his haste, "You… You don't mean… We… What I felt…"

"So you felt it too?" Hollow looks at Fluke and then back at the man, his expression calm. He pauses, collecting his words as the enormity of what the man had said settles over him. "Those eggs will hatch for us, won't they?"

"Yes, they will." The man says, his eyes twinkling.

Fluke explodes into action and starts jumping around the alley, barreling into Hollow who jumps back with surprise. "I knew it, I knew it." He says breathlessly, jumping up and down in place, blue eyes shining with joy. Hollow, always the calm one, just grins at his outburst.

"I suppose I should introduce myself. My name is Juke, son of Jukettaja. I am an envoy for the dragon riders, it is my job to travel with the dragon eggs and find those for whom they will hatch." Juke says, mostly ignoring the bouncing Fluke.

"I am Hollow, son of Aaron." Hollow glances at Fluke, waiting for him to introduce himself, but Fluke is dancing around the alley, fighting invisible enemies with a sliver of firewood. Hollow sighs and continues, "And this is Fluke, son of William."

Fluke, hearing his name, drops the stick and comes bounding back over. "When will they hatch?" he asks excitedly.

Juke's eyes flick down the alley at the town center; Fluke and Hollow follow his gaze. A young girl has just broken free of the crowd, she starts to run around, dark brown braids bouncing around on her back as she screams, "It moved! It did! It moved, I swear!"

"I think you're getting lucky boys, these dragons are eager to meet their Riders."

Fluke looks over at Hollow and mouths "Riders" at him, his eyes shining. Hollow just smiles and takes off down the alley, Fluke hot on his heels.

Behind them, Juke shakes his head and laughs, a light musical thing. "This never gets old," he says to himself before following the boys out of the shadows to town center.

Fluke and Hollow plow into the sunlight of town center to see that the crowd has grown to twice its original size, having had many adults join their children. They elbow their way to the front, breathlessly muttering "pardon" and "sorry" to each person they pass. Finally, they reach the center where the two eggs rest, sunlight glinting off their smooth shells. Fluke stares at the golden yellow egg and gasps when he sees it move, just the slightest twitch, but it was movement. He glances over at Hollow.

Hollow has his eyes screwed up in concentration; his entire being is utterly focused on the sapphire blue egg. "Come on…" he mutters under his breath.

"People of Kuasta!" Juke's voice booms across the town center, loud and clear like a bell. "As the envoy of the Dragon Riders I would like to ask you to please step away from the eggs."

The crowd falls silent and beings to melt away to stand along the edges of the town square, leaving Hollow, Fluke, and the two dragon eggs in the center. People are whispering now, looking at Hollow and Fluke and muttering to their neighbors beside them.

"People are staring at us, Fluke," Hollow says quietly.

"Is that really such a bad thing?" Fluke responds.

Juke stands on the outskirts, arms crossed with his dark hood drawn back up to shadow his face. He is just inside the empty ring of space between the town's people and the two lucky chosen ones. He watches them converse with a sad smile on his face. Once that could have been him in the center, he had often dreamed it was him there. There had been a time when he had been much like Fluke, always thinking that if he just kept praying, someday he would be one of them, one of the Riders. When his time had come and gone he could not let it go, could not imagine a life other than that of a Dragon Rider. So he had run away to Ileria, hoping beyond hope that he could do something, anything, to be near them. He remembered the day they had told him he could be an envoy, ferrying dragon eggs around Alagaësia to find the human or elf with which they were meant to be with.

Juke snaps out of his reverie when a loud cracking noise echoes through the quiet town center. The first fissure appears in the golden yellow egg, making the light of its glow refract across the town center, Juke shields his eyes and moves to avoid the glare. Another loud crack creates a large fracture in the sapphire egg.

With a resounding snap, tiny shards of the thick yellow and blue egg shells spray away from the center. The people gasp, but otherwise stay completely silent as Fluke and Hollow, unfazed, step forward towards the tiny creatures in the center. Their colors are much like that of their egg shells. The yellow one is spectacularly shiny, glinting a pale golden color from the sun. By contrast, the blue one is of a deep sapphire, not shiny like the yellow one, but more of a faint glimmer that runs across its scales as it stands up and stretches, pale pink tongue flicking out of its mouth.

Everyone is fixated on the dragons, but still they say nothing, the entire town is deadly quiet. Juke starts to step forward. "_So many dragons I have seen hatch." _He muses, "_But never have I seen anything quite like this._" Fluke and Hollow meet each other's eyes, their expressions extraordinarily calm.

Fluke reaches for Hollow's hand and gives it a tight squeeze before dropping it. "Together." Fluke mouths at him. Hollow, at a loss for words, simply nods his head. They reach to touch their dragons for the first time, knowing only through tales what will happen. The burning sensation of being marked with the gedwëy ignasia doesn't disappoint, and they both stagger back, Hollow cursing under his breath and Fluke trying to smile through the threat of tears.

_"All the stories are true." _Juke thinks, smiling to himself despite the slight hint of sadness that he always felt with each hatching, _"And something about the two of them makes me wonder what theirs will be."_

_A/N: From here on out, expect the chapters to be longer, the first few were more intro things and therefore shorter._


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